FLIGHT
"Anyway, we've got to get away from here quick," said Tom, pulling
himself together; "never mind about clothes or anything. One thing sure,
they'll be back here soon. See if he has a watch," he added, indicating
the dead soldier.
"No, but he's got a little compass around his neck; shall I take it?"
"Sure, we got a right to capture anything from the enemy."
"He's got some papers, too."
"All right, take 'em. Come on out through the kitchen way--hurry up.
Don't make any noise. You look for some food--I'll be with you right
away."
Tom crept cautiously out to the road and, kneeling, placed his ear to
the ground. There was no sound, and he hurried back to the stone kitchen
where Archer was stuffing his pockets with such dry edibles as he could
gather.
"All right, come on," he whispered hurriedly. "What have you got?"
"Some hard bread and a couple of salt fish----"
"Give me one of those," Tom interrupted: "and hand me that tablecloth.
Come on. Got some matches?"
"Yes, and a candle, too."
"Good. Don't strike a light. You go ahead, along the plank walk."
Leaving the scene of the tragedy, they hurried along the board walk
under the trellis, Tom dragging the tablecloth so that it swept both of
the narrow planks and obliterated any suggestion of footprints. When
they had gone about fifty yards he stooped and flung the salt fish from
him so that it barely skimmed the earth and rested at some distance from
the path.
"If they should have any dogs with 'em, that'll take 'em off the trail,"
he said.
"I'm sorry I didn't get you a souveneerr too," said Archer, as they
hurried along.
This was the first intimation Tom had that Archer regarded the little
compass merely as a souvenir.
"You can give me those papers you took," he said, half in joke.
"It's only an envelope," Archer said. "Have you got your button all
right?"
"Sure."
When they reached the wine vat, Tom threw the old tablecloth into it,
and pulled the vine more carefully so as to conceal the door. They were
tempted to rest here, but realized that if they spent the balance of the
night in their former refuge it would mean another long day in the dank
hole.
The vineyard ended a few yards from the wine vat and beyond was an area
of open lowlands across which the boys could see a range of low wooded
hills.
"We've got about four hours till daylight," said Tom; "let's make for
those woods."
"That's east," said Archer. "_We_ want to go south."
"We want to see where we're going before we go anywhere," Tom answered.
"If we can get into the woods on those hills, we can climb a tree
tomorrow and see where we're at. What I want is a bird's-eye squint to
start off with, 'cause we can't ask questions of anybody."
"No, and believe me, we don't want to run into any cities," said Archer.
"We got through one night anyway, hey?"
Notwithstanding that they were without shelter, and facing the
innumerable perils of a hostile country about which they knew nothing,
they still found action preferable to inaction and their spirits rose as
they journeyed on with the star-studded sky overhead.
They found the meadows low and marshy, which gratified Tom who was
always fearful of leaving footprints. The hills beyond were low and
thickly wooded, the face of the nearest being broken by slides and
forming almost a precipice surmounted by a jumble of rocks and
underbrush. The country seemed wild and isolated enough.
"I suppose it's the beginning of the Alps, maybe," Tom panted as they
scrambled up.
"There's nobody up here, that's surre," Archer answered.
"We'll just lie low till daylight and see if we can get a squint at the
country. Then tomorrow night we'll hike it south. If we go straight
south we've _got_ to come to Switzerland."
"It's lucky we've got the compass," said Archer.
"Maybe this is a ridge we're on," Tom said. "If it is, we're in luck. We
may be able to go thirty or forty miles along it. One thing sure, it'll
be more hilly the farther south we get 'cause we'll be getting into the
beginning of the Alps. There ought to be water up here."
"I wish there were some apples," said Archer.
"You're always thinking about apples and souvenirs. Let's crawl in under
here."
They had scrambled to the top of the precipitous ascent and found
themselves upon the broken edge of the forest amid a black chaos of
piled up rock and underbrush. Evidently, the land here was giving way,
little by little, for here and there they could see a tree canting
tipsily over the edge, its network of half-exposed roots making a last
gallant stand against the erosive process and helping to hold the weight
of the great boulders which ere long would crash down into the marshy
lowlands.
They crept into a sort of leafy cave formed by a fallen tree and
stretched their weary bodies and relaxed their tense nerves after what
had seemed a nightmare.
"As long as we're going to join the army," said Tom, "we might as well
make a rule now. We won't both sleep at the same time till we're out of
Germany. We got to live up to that rule no matter how tired we get."
"I'm game," said Archer. "You go to sleep now and when I get good and
sleepy I'll wake you up."
"In about two hours," said Tom. "Then you can sleep till it's light.
Then we'll see if it's safe to stay here. Keep looking in that
direction--the way we came. And if you see any lights, wake me up."
Archer did not obey these directions at all, for he sat with his hands
clasped over his knees, gazing down across the dark marshland below. Two
hours, three hours, four hours, he sat there and scarcely stirred. And
as the time dragged on and there were no lights and no sounds he took
fresh courage and hope. He was beginning to realize the value of the
stolid determination, the resourcefulness, the keen eye and stealthy
foot and clear brain of the comrade who lay sleeping at his side. He had
wanted to tell Tom Slade what he thought of him and how he trusted him,
but he did not know how. So he just sat there, hour in and hour out, and
let the weary pathfinder of Temple Camp sleep until he awoke of his own
accord.
"All right," said Archer then, blinking. "Nothing happened."